Killed by Dust
by something-wild-cat
Summary: Their morphers dead, and having gone off the radar, Dillon and Summer set out on a journey across the wasteland, back to Corinth, the former plagued by his nightmares and frequent blackouts caused by the Venjix virus. And they're getting worse. [Power Rangers RPM, set during/after Episode 18] {ABANDONED}
1. Chapter 1: Blackout

_AN: Well, I was supposed to be writing a Power Rangers Ninja Storm fanfic... But as I came up with no ideas for NS fanfics, this RPM one-shot popped up instead. Which I let run around for a while and now it's not a one-shot anymore. Hopefully it doesn't end up all depressing-like, because I'm prone to that._

_Raw, unbeta-ed, unedited. Rated T for a few curses, and playing it safe. I hope you enjoy!_

_Disclaimer: If I owned Power Rangers, then this would be what actually happened in Belly of the Beast. It didn't, so clearly I do not own them. Unless I magically became Disney overnight (I think it's Disney, because it's RPM). In which case I do own them. But I'm not Disney. So no._

_Summary: Everyone knew Dillon's virus was getting worse. But even Dillon didn't realise that the wastelands outside Corinth were affecting it. Set during/after Belly of the Beast (Ep. 18)._

* * *

Dillon's dark eyes flickered in the heat of the fire as he stared into the depths of the room. If something - or someone - had been trapped by those flames, there was no way it could have survived.

Damn those explosives. It would be the one time they were forced to blow up the place up instead of salvage it. There could have been so much they could have used if they had just hacked into the factory's computer files, or something other than attempting to blow the Venjix doomsday bot to pieces. But it wasn't the time for that. He had to find some clues here. Now.

The noise behind him made him jump, but it was Summer who climbed over the metal bar, tucking a bobby pin frantically into her hair. "There's not going to be anyone else in here, Dillon!"

Dillon groaned. Of course, running off on his own and not have another ranger follow him was too much to ask. "Just a few more seconds. Please." It wasn't really a request, because he didn't wait for her to protest, and had already turned into the next room.

More flames flared up, throwing more of the intense heat into his face. Honestly, Dillon thought, he was lucky heat wasn't one of the things that triggered his Venjix implants.

Summer grabbed his arm, as if attempting to drag him away, but her fear was evident as it only came across as a small tug. "Dillon... No. If we don't get out of here now -"

"You're right. You need to go, now!" Dillon threw her hand off, pushing her back the way they had come.

"I'm not leaving here without you!" Summer shoved him away, though she continued to back away from him towards the door. She was ready to bolt, it was clear, even if she seemed like she was staying.

Dillon exploded. This really wasn't the time; one of them had to get out of here, and he wasn't going to be the one. "Why are you always trying to save me?!"

Summer's eyes softened, her voice faded against the loud crackling of the flames. "Because you're worth saving."

Dillon's heart was pounding. Something in him registered what she had just said; but most of his consciousness was still dragging him, deeper and deeper into the flames... His sister. His sister was here, somewhere, or she had been...

There was an echoing crash of metal and Summer shrieked, hopping away from the door they had just come through, gripping Dillon's arm so hard her hands shook.

Another beam had fallen - right in front of their only exit.

Dillon cursed silently, but he slowly loosened Summer's grip, his gaze still locked on the beam. Part of him hoped it was just the heat, and the beam was a mirage. But no, it was firmly there. "Looks like...neither of us is leaving."

She turned to face him, and he lurched forward, his hands locking with hers. Summer leaned forward, pressing her body against his, as if trying to avoid the flames, but to Dillon, it didn't feel like that was the only reason.

"Great last moments, huh?" Dillon managed darkly, but he stayed, hovering protectively.

"Not helping, Dillon..." Summer's voice was tight.

"Arms around me?" he muttered, almost flinching as Summer pressed even tighter against him. The heat was starting to scorch his back, and a tingling pain was spreading through his nerves. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck. So this was how the great Subject D-44 was going to meet his end. Wouldn't Venjix be pleased.

Summer slid her arms around him, coughing a few times. Too hot to respond, Dillon thought to himself. It was getting harder to think in here - and the pain was getting worse. Even the ranger bio suits wouldn't protect them against this - and their morphers were dead anyway.

The cold water hit them, and Dillon almost believed they had finally burned to death - but a few notes of a mechanical whale song echoed through the air, along with the remaining misty spray from the water. Oddly zord like. Somehow, Dillon thought as he spotted the blue machine hovering above the building, there wouldn't be any cheerful-looking whale zords in his perception of death.

Beside him, Summer let out a breath, pulling her arms away from him. She laughed.

Dillon couldn't help but laugh with her.

Summer glanced up at the zord, taking a few steps away as if to follow it; the tail of it had just disappeared over the edge of the ruined walls.

"It didn't see us," she said. "I guess it'll loop back around. Find us then."

Dillon just nodded, staring down at himself; from what he could see of himself, his hands were smudged with soot or ash or something. In the ruins of the still smouldering factory, they'd be hard to spot, and they didn't have anything to signal with.

He didn't mention that to Summer. Her hopeful gaze was too beautiful in this situation to kill.

After a moment, she turned again, closing the gap between them again, standing there with him as they stared up at the hole in the roof, waiting for the zord to come back and find them. They couldn't leave just yet; despite the waterfall it had dumped onto the building, said building was still flaming in places - most notably the doorframes, which would make escape all the more difficult.

A spark flickered across Dillon's vision, like an electric pulse was spreading through his eyes. A tingling stung his fingertips, and he reached up, gripping Summer's shoulder. Hard. _Shit. Not now._

She took the moment to glance at his whitening knuckles, his suddenly ashen skin, the feverish look in his eyes.

"Summer," Dillon said, and he couldn't remember if she replied.

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The whale was one heck of a zord, Scott conceded as the three remaining rangers watched the trackers of Rangers Gold and Silver move around the perimeters of the factory remnants. Dr. K was tapping furiously at her keyboard, muttering to herself using way too many technical terms and syllables, Flynn was fixated on the dot that signified the position of Gemma, and Ziggy, well, Scott never knew what he was up to. As for Ranger Red himself, he was wearing a path in the floor next to his car, glancing worriedly over to the screens from time to time, turning his morpher over in his hands.

It had been twenty minutes since the whale zord had put the fire out, and the factory was too unstable to enter at the moment, and worse, it had been over an hour since the last sign of Summer or Dillon. Their morphers had been drained, and their trackers weren't responding.

The communicators beeped twice.

"Come in, Gem and Gemma," Dr. K answered them tersely, though her eyes never strayed from the screen to her right. Scott glanced up at her as she addressed the siblings by their names instead of their ranger titles, but the tension in the air was high and K was bound to slip in her typical pattern of speech when the circumstances were the way they were.

There was silence a moment. Then Gemma's voice came over the speaker. "We're here, but..."

Flynn let out a sigh of relief, and opened his mouth, probably to ask Gemma something, but he was silenced almost immediately by the Boom Twins' next statement.

Gem's voice cracked slightly halfway through. "We couldn't find them."

"We think they're gone." Gemma added softly.

There was another moment of horrifying silence. Finally, Scott turned away, but it was too late not to hear.

"We're...

"...Calling it."

"Two rangers..."

"…Down, Dr. K."


	2. Chapter 2: Delirium

_Changed up some stuff about this now that I know where it's going, including the title and official summary. Thanks for reading! R&amp;R's much appreciated. I guess I'll stop talking and let you read the update..._

* * *

"Dillon!"

His eyes flicked open as a bead of sweat stung the edge of his vision. The pale grey of the cement roof above him had since changed into a navy, and a gap in the roof showed stars.

"I blacked out." The words felt strange on his tongue: dry.

"Yeah. Only for a bit." Summer appeared above him, concern still in her eyes; half her face irregularly shadowed by the moonlight.

"A bit. As in, long enough for it to switch from day to night." Dillon tried to sit up, to get a better view of her, without the darkness marring his view. He propped himself up on an elbow - then he realised why her face looked so dappled.

Her face was dark. Literally. Bruised.

"Oh my God..." Dillon brushed a thumb against her jaw, tracing the worst bruise he could see. She flinched. She actually flinched at his touch. "I can't...I..."

"It wasn't you." She turned away, her hair hiding the mark. "Promise. It was..." She hesitated.

Dillon fell back, closing his eyes so he wouldn't tear up. "It was me, Summer. Don't lie." His voice cracked. "I did that to you." He hesitated, unsure of whether to continue talking, and Summer remained silent. "He made me do that. Venjix."

There was another long pause. Then Summer's hair fell into his face. "It wasn't your fault. But I know what was, Subject D-44."

Her voice was suddenly so cold he didn't need telling to open his eyes - but he instantly regretted it. He stared at Summer, his breath coming in gasps, trying to scramble away.

And suddenly, the girl wasn't Summer anymore - her eyes were blank, her hair straight and dark, clothed in white so she seemed more ghastly than human. "Don't let go," she whispered, and extended a pale hand, dangling something that took him a moment to identify. If it had been anyone else, Dillon would have lunged for her, to get that pocket watch back. To get -his- pocket watch back. But instead it hypnotised him. The whole scene hypnotised him. This girl...she'd been in his dreams before.

"Initiate the upload on Subject D-44," she rasped, and Dillon was jerked out of his daze.

"No," he murmured, feebly at first, and then louder. "No!"

The girl dropped the watch by his head, and she faded as it cracked open.

The eerie melody started to creep into the air, and Dillon curled onto his side, head in his hands, as everything dissolved into screams.

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"Dillon!"

His eyes snapped open, almost immediately raising a hand to his eyes and letting out a relieved, shaky breath. "I... I blacked out." His other hand, he realised, was clutching something cold and round - his pocket watch, no doubt.

"Yeah. Only for a bit."

Dillon choked, trying to sit up and coming face to face with Summer. His wild eyes searched her face frantically - yes, he was sure it was her. Not that girl. Blonde hair, blue eyes. Bruise and everything.

_Bruise and everything._

"Oh my god..." Dillon shook, finding his dry mouth unwillingly repeating what he had said in the dream. "I can't...I..."

"It wasn't you." Summer lowered her head, and Dillon blinked a few times, eyes shining with tears as she continued. "I promise, it wasn't."

"You're a horrible liar, Summer," his reply shortly came. Blatantly. Flatly. Refusing to let the same dialogue pass between them again. "I know it was me."

She simply nodded, squinting as she fiddled around with her morpher.

"Still dead?"

She nodded again. "It will be until we get back to the garage. I mean, there's enough energy to set off a weak signal flare. And by weak, I mean we'll be running the barricade by the time it gets picked up."

He almost laughed. "It's dead then." Almost.

"Yeah."

He fell back onto the ground, letting a few, calmer breaths escape him. A moment of silence passed between them.

"I'm sorry, Summer."

She swallowed, nodding her acknowledgement a moment before responding aloud. "It's not a bullet wound. It's a bruise. I'll live. It's not your fault, Dillon, it never was, and it never will be." She sighed, lying down next to him, arm across his chest, before a yawn cut briefly across her swiftly tiring voice. Another long silence passed between them. Finally, tilting her head upward, she craned her neck to whisper sleepily into his ear. "But...just between you and me?"

After a moment, Dillon glanced down, to catch a glimpse of her head. "I'm listening," he murmured, sleep catching his own words.

Summer shifted, turning so she was pressed against his body once again. Only this time, it was without the flames, without the fear that they were going to die within a few seconds. "I love you. I love you, Dillon."

Dillon closed his eyes again, more peacefully this time as he sighed. "I love you too, Summer." His voice was almost inaudible; he wasn't sure if she heard his response.

If she had heard, if she was still awake, she didn't reply.

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"Dillon!"

His eyes flew open. "Summer?" He called, sitting quickly up as he searched the now gold-lit room. They had fallen asleep, but for how long, he didn't know.

"Come over here." She was standing at the far end of the room, at the end of the path of rubble.

"Summer?" he repeated slowly. When she didn't reply, didn't even move, he groaned and fell back onto the ground. Not another dream. This was clearly another dream. And yet... he didn't seem to want to wake up.

By the time he regained focus, pushed the sleep away from his mind, she had moved again. Forcing himself onto his feet, he turned, to find her heading deeper into the factory, climbing over large metal beams and rubble from the caved in roofs, and finally, up a crumbling staircase. She didn't look back once to see him starting to follow.

He lost sight of her near the top of the stairs, but it wasn't hard to find her again - a few rooms in, leaning over a crumbled wall like a balcony. The wall dropped off into open air next to her, and she stared over the rubble-covered factory floor.

He hesitated.

She turned, a small smirk crossing her lips, although her expression was unreadable. "Aren't you going to do it?"

A fleeting moment of confusion passed over him - and then time lurched forward again. His vision jolted, and he suddenly found himself with his hands around her throat. And he couldn't stop himself.

"Go on." It was like she wanted him to do it. Right on cue, his hands tensed, and he understood everything.

Her eyes were glowing. Red. So red, so bright that they seemed to tinge the edges of his vision the same color - Venjix red. Whenever he saw that colour pasted over his vision, he was forced to do this. That thought, that colour, seemed to bring everything back to the surface for Dillon, and he struggled to loosen his grip.

Finally, slowly, he stumbled back as if through water, and he found his hands moving downwards, away from her throat, and locking her wrists in his grip instead. He could fight whatever was making him do...whatever he had tried to do - kill Summer - and he could fight...

Summer drew in a couple gasps of breath, blinking a few times. The glowing in her eyes faded slightly, but it didn't go away. Finally, she smiled; an airy, yet somehow intense smile. It didn't seem right. She laughed once, and the spark of hope that Dillon had felt went out. "I knew you couldn't do it," she whispered, slowly sliding her hands out of his grip. "And that means," she whispered, stepping as close as she could to breathe into his ear, "You are of no use to Venjix, Subject D-44. I take it you know what happens next."

Her arms laced around his waist, and she stepped off the ledge into thin air.

He saw the ground rushing up to meet them.


	3. Chapter 3: Breathe In, Breathe Out

_So very sorry for the ending of the last chapter; it was simply a very convenient place to stop.I wasn't really sure where I was going with this chapter...but I think it fits with what I want to do next chapter. I won't talk anymore._

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Chapter 3 ~ Breathe In, Breathe Out

"Dillon!"

He shivered. That would be Summer. Again.

"Dillon. Wake up. Please, wake up."

He moaned, burying his head in his hands, refusing to open his eyes. "Five more minutes," he mumbled. Actually, he didn't want to spend another second lying on the gravelly concrete they had hidden behind, but something about the last dream caused him to have this feeling. He couldn't face Summer like this. Not now.

"Dillon, I know you can hear me. Please don't do this."

He groaned again, turning onto his side, away from her. "No."

"Venjix patrol."

His eyes snapped open, and he scrambled into a sitting position, ready to bolt. The sun filtering through the burnt wall glared right into his eyes, and he raised a hand to shield his eyes as he squinted, trying to locate Summer.

She was kneeling next to his feet, staring at him with an expression close to amusement, close to relief, and yet still serious. "I knew you were awake."

Dillon dropped his gaze to his arms, which were folded tightly against his chest as if he was chilled to the core. "You did that on purpose." _I swear, if this is another dream, kill me now._

She slid closer to him, placing her hand on his crossed arms, gently. "You were worrying me. I promise, I won't do it again."

He shook his head, disbelievingly. "You'll do it the day we get back to the garage." Glancing up to flash her a grin, the smile never quite reached his lips. "Your bruise..."

A fleeting look of amusement passed over her again, although immediately replaced by confusion. "What bruise?"

Dillon curled into a tighter ball, running a hand nervously through his hair. "Don't pretend you don't know. The...the bruise. I hit you. When Venjix was controlling me."

Summer shook her head. "Dillon...you've been out for two days. When you blacked out, your eyes went red and you just collapsed. Nothing else. Looks like you fought off the virus for now." She leaned back on her heels, spreading her arms, tilting her head to look him straight in the eyes. "Look. Whatever bruise you thought you gave me, you didn't."

He just nodded, blankly.

Her face really was as unmarked as she said - no sign of the bruise anywhere. Which meant, because he was sure it hadn't been a trick of the moonlight, that the one memory he had, where he was sure he had been awake...hadn't happened.

She hadn't said the words he had wanted so badly. _I love you._ She hadn't said them.

A mechanical whirring jerked him out of his thoughts. Robotic marching.

"Grinders," Summer stated flatly, already on her feet, and pulling Dillon up as well. "We gotta go."

Dillon started, stumbling a few steps in shock as something surfaced. "Wait...I never got to look for my sister."

Summer shook her head, continuing to try and drag him towards the doorway, away from the incessant noise of the robots approaching. "Dillon, there's no time."

He clenched his fist, trying to slide his wrist out of her grip. "No...we've got to search." Hesitating a moment, he became aware of how much his body had started shaking. "I left her here once. I am not leaving this place without something, okay?" Wrenching his hand free, he began to head back into the factory, until Summer's hand on his shoulder made him turn again.

She held up a hand, a chain dangling from it. A key pendant hanging in midair. She held it out to him. Placed it gently in his palm, which he had mindlessly extended. Closed it around the key, and took his wrist. "We have to go. Now."

There was a moment of shock that flashed through Dillon's mind, as he followed Summer out of the factory compound.

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Grinders were all so predictable. Like the last batch of the stupid robots that had been sent to guard the factory, the new force was programmed to look left every twenty three seconds, and shift positions every three minutes. It wasn't that hard to find the gaps, however small, and it was fairly easy for Summer and Dillon to sneak past the first wave of the robots. Unfortunately, the new wave that Venjix had sent to the factory ruins (why Venjix would send troops to a destroyed factory was a question beyond Dillon's answering capabilities) had completely different orders, and Dillon, still distracted from the key pressed firmly in his palm, would have walked in front of a whole wall of them if Summer hadn't dragged him out of sight behind a pile of trash and debris.

"You're an idiot," she whispered, and if the fact that they'd almost just risked capture hadn't been so apparent, Dillon was sure her tone would have been more playful. Not that he really wanted to be playful at a time like this.

He ducked his head in apology, before twisting back around to observe the Grinders.

"A swarm of them at eleven o'clock," Summer murmured shortly. "Gap in the line at two, but they're watching that spot."

"Head straight for there, then. When they look away."

She nodded, sliding her hand around his shoulders to wait for the next opening. "They're so predictable."

Dillon didn't know what came over him in that moment. It wasn't a Venjix attack; far from it. But he couldn't control it, all the same. "But you're not." The words slipped out of his mouth, and he tensed, his grip tightening on a piece of metal jutting out from the pile. "I like that," he mumbled after a moment, averting his gaze to focus back on the Grinders. Still no gap. Venjix security must have gotten a new guard plan. "I like that you're not predictable."

_Shit._ One of many ways he hadn't wanted to compliment her. It just seemed so...cliché. And Summer was not cliché.

She didn't react, or at least didn't appear to. "Couldn't come up with anything better?"

And then...and then:

She kissed him.

Quickly. So lightly, it could barely be called a kiss. Tantalizing. And then she slipped away, darting out from behind the pile of scrap metal.

"Try something a little more original next time. The words fled with her, and Dillon almost tried to pull her back - before he realised why. A gap in the guards. Even though he had been disoriented, she hadn't been; she had been keeping an eye on the guards.

_Let's go._

His lips were still tingling; his mind was still disoriented. He ran after Summer anyway.


	4. Chapter 4: Chasing Thunder

_I admit; I neglected this story a little bit too long; I had things on my mind, another fanfic in the works, and I wasn't sure where this fanfiction was going and then when I figured that out it wouldn't write itself... But whatever; it is now written and I hope you enjoy! It's a bit short because there wasn't really much to write; admittedly this is more of a transition into the second half of the story. But anyway! I'm shutting up and letting you read!_

* * *

It was too much to ask for. Not being followed was much too much too ask for.

Summer could deal with a stray Grinder in about three seconds flat. When there was one of them. There were about ten of them that had spotted the two escape the factory, sent after them to eliminate them. Really though, Dillon thought, if they wanted to eliminate the Power Rangers, even two weakened unmorphed ones, Venjix would have to send someone unbelievably strong. Grinders were not that unbelievably strong.

Summer had dealt with two of them by the time Dillon had caught up with her, reducing them to little more than humanoid piles of metal (one of them was still twitching, sparks falling out of a hole in its leg. Dillon made sure to give it a good kick as he plunged in to deal with the rest). It didn't take them long to deal with the rest, but Dillon was no longer keeping track. As fighting Venjix got harder, it got dirtier, and unfortunately that meant dismembering more robots in hand-to-hand rather than knocking their wires out. And the fact that Summer was still trying to fight them, cleanly, alone, made him want to get rid of them faster. Made him get angrier.

Perhaps the wasteland was starting to affect his mind. Or maybe it was the "coated in dust and sweat while standing amongst broken, smoking robot parts after the fighting's done" aspect of it all. Either way, Dillon tried to blame it on the former - especially now as he tried to jerk himself out of his daze, blaming the heat as he struggled to focus on Summer without staring.

"Well, if you're going to continue to act out of character," Summer said, tossing aside a stray Grinder hand and playfully shoving Dillon's shoulder, "then say something now."

Dillon paused.

Summer did too.

Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance.

He'd done it just now, when they had been escaping the factory, and she hadn't smacked him, rejected him, or left him to the robots. That should have been something to encourage Dillon, mustering up his courage now, but it didn't help. Not knowingly, at least. And by the time he had made his decision as to what to say, seconds had awkwardly passed, and he had leaned in. Almost too close.

_Not_ too close, he realised as he closed the distance. Suddenly, the sun glaring down on them both, even the fire that they had almost died in, neither seemed so hot, nor so intense as -

"Well, lovebirds?" The sarcastic voice entering the conversation caused them to both break away from the kiss in shock. A small mechanical thudding - Grinder footsteps - stopped abruptly and loudly, like a mini thunder crash right in front of them.

"It's like you guys are just waiting for me to get close enough to kill you before you start fighting." Tenaya's voice, sarcastic as usual, pierced sharply against Dillon's ears as she appeared out of nowhere into his line of vision. He hated her even more than he already had - and the reason for that was obvious.

Waving her hand casually as if brushing off a fly, she stood in their path, a few Grinders hovering just behind her. "I mean, I guess otherwise there would be no plot or excitement to whatever silly little quest you're going on, or whatever. Oh, wait, you're just trying to get back to Corinth. And I'm supposed to stop you. I think we all get the drill by now..."

Dillon gritted his teeth. "Shut up." She was more talkative today than usual. Annoyingly talkative; that, on the other hand, was perfectly usual. At least she didn't start on her massively long, self-given title.

Beside him, Summer clenched her fists. Something about the look in her eyes looked like she was thinking what Dillon said.

Tenaya laughed in response to him; the sound made Dillon flinch from wanting it to stop. "Gladly. Fighting; now there's what I want to do right now..." She snapped her fingers; a muffled sound emanated from her gloved hand as the Grinders behind her snapped to attention. Began to stalk towards Dillon and Summer. "It would be wise for you to do the same, and shut up, Subject D-44."

Summer rushed ahead towards the robots before they could attack. So did Dillon.

Tenaya stood there a moment, a grin on her face as she called out to Dillon, "Maybe you should be good...and take a nap for a while." And then she, too, rushed...towards Summer, without even giving a second glance to Dillon.

Dillon spun to look at her in confusion, but he didn't stop fighting. He managed to knock out another Grinder before he felt a blow collide with the back of his neck. He collapsed onto his knees, his vision washed over with red.

Venjix red.

Dillon wished he could call his blackouts naps. A crackle of electricity sparked in the back of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5: Die Alive

_I suck at updating. Now, all I have to say: I promise, Dillon won't spend the whole story blacking out. Maybe._

* * *

Dillon could have sworn he had already hit the ground, but he could really do anything but go through with it again.

His vision sparked at the edges, red, and the sand was stinging his hands, much, much more intensely than it usually did. A static buzzed in the back of his skull, and he winced. Forcing back the sickening taste in his throat, he pushed himself back onto his knees, gaze sweeping the area frantically for Summer. How the hell had he gotten lost; he hadn't even moved and the fight, he was pretty sure, hadn't either.

And then it all rushed in on him. _Why the hell are you zoning out?_ There was the fight, right in front of him - tinged in red, yes, but there, _there, **there, THERE**_-

There.

Hands outstretched, he lunged towards the figures that shadowed the ground in front of him. He wasn't sure which one of the Grinders had managed to knock him down; they looked identical; he didn't care. He'd kill them _all,_ he thought as he yanked one towards him by the throat.

"Dillon! Let go!" Summer's voice cut piercingly through his raging stream of consciousness, and a buzz of static cut across his vision, giving him a moment of clarity. His eyes widened and his fingers loosened, and Summer backed away from him in horror. Her hand reached up to trace the marks Dillon had left along her collarbone, but that wasn't what made him turn his back on her. It was that teared look in her blue eyes.

"Wake up!" she screamed at him, and he tried to respond. _I am awake._

He was. Normally, he'd black out and have no memory of anything he did under the influence of the virus, but that wasn't the case. Sending a kick towards a Grinder and rolling under the blow of another, he caught view of Summer and Tenaya - how the latter had escaped his attention for so long was beyond him - and more of the goddamned robots. Why were there so many goddamned _robots_?

"Dillon, you idiot!"

A body crashed into him, forcing him to hit the ground, and his blurred vision cleared just enough to see Summer and Tenaya locked in arms above. It was difficult to tell who was who; everything spun when he tried to make sense of the scene.

Summer stumbled out of his vision; he thought it was Summer because Tenaya was the one whose features focused as she leaned over him.

"I cannot believe she just tried to save you."

Dillon's fingers dug into the sand; the sun-warmed particles burned his palms. He didn't know what his expression was, but all he could hope was he didn't betray anything.

"You're useless. I thought I told you, Subject D-44. You should be good...and take a nap for a while."

Not again. _Oh God, not again. Not again._

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Dillon's eyes flicked open, but he was no longer there, half-buried in the sands of the wasteland. He was in the control room. Standing in front of the column with the red eye, a part of Venjix.

Had that really all been just a dream, then? His escape, his search, Corinth, Summer...was all a dream? As Dillon stood on the walkway uneasily, the cold metal pressing uncomfortably into his feet, a door on the far side of the room slid open. He could escape; he really could. Slowly, he stepped forward, walking toward the door, slowly, as if through liquid. Again. Venturing through the first doorway, a little ways down the following corridor, he came upon another door. For a moment, Dillon looked back, his hand resting on the handle of the door. When he faced the exit again, he jerked. He wasn't alone.

"Do you really want to go back?" Something about staring into a mirror image of himself was frightening. But this mirror image, though dressed in the worn, white prisoner's outfit he knew so well, was far from just a reflection from his past. Far from just a ghost, but that was what he had to be. He was...so much more threatening. So much more dangerous. "Before Corinth, you were nothing. You are nothing. Just a human, so easy to dispose of. Do you really want to go back?"

Dillon didn't answer.

"I know what you're thinking. Nothing will change. But... We'll never know, will we?"

Dillon spun, trying to shove the door open, but the ghost grabbed his wrist, holding him back.

"I know more than you think, Subject D-44."

Dillon flinched. "How do you know me?" he asked in a low voice.

"It doesn't matter. I just want you to know that if you go beyond this door, everything will change."

"Who are you?!"

"Isn't it obvious?"

_You_. The thought blazed through his mind, and Dillon jerked his arm out of the ghost's grasp. "Get the hell away from me." Without another word, he shoved the handle down and burst out of the room, breaking into a run.

He hadn't gone more than a few steps before the hand on his shoulder pulled him back.

"I know what you're thinking." The ghost's voice had lost any sort of emotion, and had more or less become a wall of sound descending upon him. "I know what you're feeling."

Dillon struggled, but the ghost held him in check. "You don't," he insisted darkly, but he felt himself cracking. Whatever sort of test this was, his opponent was good.

The ghost laughed. A strange sound, Dillon thought, as the odd realisation came over him of how little he himself laughed. "Of course I do, Dillon. I remember the pain. You know what I'm talking about. The pain of everything you're going through. Whenever you want to give in, to dream, the pain wakes you up." The ghost grasped Dillon's trapped wrists in an iron grip, twisting them behind his back until he felt his knees give out. He sank onto the linoleum tiles, and the ghost knelt down. "Do I sense fear?"

Dillon shivered from his limp position on the ground. "Damn you..."

"It's the pain, isn't it? I knew it would make you want to wake up. Doesn't it? It does."

Dillon pressed his forehead into the cold tile. The ghost was right; it was tempting. More than tempting. Irresistible. "No," he managed, the ringing beginning to start in his ears.

"No? Really? Dillon." The ghost paused. "Pain and insanity are closely related," he said patiently, as if he was a teacher lecturing a student, "And I think that that you are lying." The ghost tilted Dillon's head, forcing him to look into his eyes. "There's a ringing. A ringing in your ears." He paused again, excruciatingly. "I'm a dream, remember, Dillon? I'm you. And that means I know everything you do. And I know the ringing is there. That clear ringing. The voice of insanity. The pain." The ghost laughed again, raising a hand as if to strike him.

Dillon flinched away, but it was no use.

"Dillon. It's telling you to WAKE UP!"


End file.
